


i want to be forever young

by owilde



Series: smalltown girls (80's violentine) [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 80's, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Stargazing, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owilde/pseuds/owilde
Summary: “You’re awake,” Clementine whispered, and shuffled closer to her under the covers. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.”Violet shook her head. “Nah, I was up anyway. Couldn’t sleep, you know.”





	i want to be forever young

**Author's Note:**

> This is just.... pointless fluff. We all need that sometimes. And yes, there's a line that's a reference to Wynonna Earp. 
> 
> Title taken from Alphaville's "Forever Young"

Clementine woke up to the foreign feeling of someone breathing next to her, a warm body pressing against hers in the dim of the room. She blinked her eyes open, realizing she’d turned to her right side in her sleep and was now with her back to Violet. She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table.

It was nearing two in the morning. Clementine craned her neck to take a glance out the window. It was pitch black, the darkness only cut by the bright yellow of the street lamp that shone like a halo through the thin white curtains. If she squinted, she could see a sea of stars litter the velvet sky, but they seemed to be drowned out by the light.

She turned her head back to see Violet looking at her. She’d let her hair free for the night, the dirty blonde strands flat against her pillow and still slightly wet at the tips. She was looking at Clementine like she was afraid of forgetting what she looked like, in love but always on her toes.

“You’re awake,” Clementine whispered, and shuffled closer to her under the covers. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.”

Violet shook her head. “Nah, I was up anyway. Couldn’t sleep, you know.”

Clementine didn’t really get it, not completely. She didn’t understand Violet’s mind the way she wanted to, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she loved her anyway, and that she’d always listen and _try_ to understand. “Yeah,” she said aloud. “You feeling okay?”

Violet huffed, but not bitterly – she sounded vaguely amused. Her lips tilted into one of those small smiles only meant for Clementine. “Seeing you? I always am,” she said. “What time is it?”

“Around two." The blanket felt warm around Clementine; she wiggled her toes, feeling content, and safe. The room around them felt like a cocoon, a bubble shielding them away from the harsh edges of the world.

“Two?” Violet asked, frowning. “Fuck, I missed it.”

Clementine frowned as well. “Missed what?”

Violet sighed. “I wanted to tell you happy birthday on the dot,” she explained, and Clementine’s heart did a jolt. “You don’t turn eighteen every day.” She paused, eyeing Clem. “But I guess two is still pretty close. So, happy 18th birthday, babe.”

Clementine snorted. “Babe?”

“Shut up,” Violet said, and leaned closer to press a feather-light kiss on her nose. “Dork.”

Clementine moved to catch her lips in a better kiss, pulling Violet closer. Their legs were tangled, and Violet was a comforting weight resting against her. Clementine pulled away but not far, eyes locked with Violet, who was still indescribably beautiful with lack of sleep weighing her down.

“I love you,” Clementine said, and relished being able to say it – to just put it out there as a fact, a universally acknowledged truth by now.

Violet smiled against her lips. She moved slightly so that she was lying beside Clementine, her hand curled around her stomach, still impossibly close. “I love you, too,” she said. “Too much.”

“I don’t think you can love too much,” Clementine said. “I think you love just the right amount. And you love me perfectly well, Vi.”

“Perfectly well,” Violet echoed. Her nose was pressing against Clementine’s shoulder. It felt cold. “You know, I don’t do a lot of things well, but I think… this is the best thing.”

“This?” Clementine asked. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

Clementine smiled up at the ceiling. Her various posters stared back down at her, some smiling in encouragement. It was almost two years ago when she’d moved here, and soon she’d be moving away again. But hopefully with something in tow. Someone.

She hadn’t asked Violet what she wanted to do after high school, and Violet hadn’t offered. She didn’t know if she wanted to study or work, if she wanted to move – she assumed that was the case.

Violet talked so much about leaving Senoia. Clementine knew she hated this town, and she understood. The town didn’t very much like Violet, either. She was too loud, too much herself. She was everything they were afraid of. In the early days of their friendship, Clementine wouldn’t have put it past her to just run away.

Not so much anymore. Clementine knew she was a part of it. Not everything, but a considerable portion. It was an equally comforting and a terrifying thought. Absently, Clementine thought that wherever Violet ended up, she would follow her.

Of course, there was baseball. Scholarships. The expectations of her parents, who were already bombarding her with college options across the country.

Everything seemed to be too far away. Clementine turned to face Violet, trying to get closer. “Vi?” She asked, tracing the lines of her face before settling on her pale eyes. “Have you thought about what to do? After we graduate?”

Violet didn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know. I haven’t really… thought that far. I just want to leave, you know.” Her gaze flicked upwards, finally looking at Clementine. “What about you? I bet you have all these plans already.”

Clementine felt something tug at her heart, part frustration and part sorrow. Violet sounded like she was already resigned to Clementine leaving her behind. Like Clementine was the only one of them to have their shit together. “Not really,” she said, feeling stubborn. “I kind of figured… where you go, I go.”

Violet’s eyes widened marginally. “What about your parents? And baseball?” She asked, echoing Clementine’s own thoughts. But Clementine found herself not caring.

“Fuck them,” Clementine said, and grinned when Violet gasped lightly. “No, seriously. I love baseball, but I also love you. I won’t have baseball when I’m fifty.”

Violet turned serious in the blink of an eye. Her mouth pulled downwards into a frown. “How do you know you’ll have me when you’re fifty? And I don’t mean that we’ll break up.”

The atmosphere turned colder, tenser. Clementine felt Violet begin to withdraw her hand, and moved to wrap her fingers around her wrist, to keep it in its place. Violet looked sad – Clementine wanted nothing more than to keep making her smile for the rest of her life.

“Because I know you,” Clementine said, feeling her heart twist itself into knots. “And I know me. I know us. I’m not going to lose you. That’s not within the realm of possibility. It’s not – it’s not even _near_ it. So just… trust me. If you don’t trust yourself, trust me.”

“Okay,” Violet said feebly. “I trust you.”

They remained like that, wrapped around each other, for a while. Clementine saw Violet relax her shoulders after a minute or so, and then she was pushing closer, kissing Clementine.

Clementine drew back a little, smiling. “I have an idea,” she said. “And please don’t tell me it’s dumb.”

Violet eyed her, apprehensive but amused. “Okay?”

“You can get to the roof from my room.”

“The roof?”

Clementine nodded. She sat up, picking her discarded jumper from the floor and pulling it over her shirt. “We can look at the stars,” she said, and started looking for Violet’s fleece. It was by the foot of the bed – she threw it towards her, and Violet caught it with one hand, frowning at Clementine.

“Stars?” She asked, putting the fleece on. “What the hell would we be looking at stars for?”

“They’re beautiful,” Clementine said succinctly. “And it’s my birthday.”

Violet stood up and stretched her arms above her head, popping her joints. Her hair was tousled and sticking in odd directions, and she was missing a sock. Clementine bit back a smile. “Do you need a sock?”

Violet glanced down, seeming to only then realize she was missing one. “Yeah,” she said, and frowned. “I don’t know where it went.”

Clementine walked over to her closet and pulled a random woollen sock out, throwing it in Violet’s general direction. As she caught it, stretching upwards to reach far enough, Clementine thought she would’ve been great in baseball. It lead to a mental path of picturing Violet in a baseball outfit – Clementine glanced at hers, hanging in the closet, and wondered if seeing her in it did weird things to Violet’s heart, too.

“Done?” She asked as she watched Violet struggle with staying balanced on one foot while putting the sock on.

“Yup,” Violet managed, and straightened herself, both feet on the ground. “How do we get there? Through the window?”

Clementine nodded, already walking over. She pushed the frame up and locked it, before climbing out to the lean-to. On the wall next to it were the ladders leading up to the roof. She moved to them and waited for Violet to follow her before beginning her ascend.

Their house wasn’t too tall – falling down wouldn’t have caused more than a broken bone. Clementine was comforted by this thought as they laid down side by side on the slope of the rooftop, shifting to get more comfortable.

“We should’ve brought a blanket,” Violet mused.

Clementine turned her head to look at her profile. “We can still go back for it.”

“Nah.” Violet felt her way around without looking, before finding Clementine’s hand. She twined their fingers. “This is fine.”

They both gazed up towards the sky, where stars shimmered, not unlike diamonds. It wasn’t a cold night, but it wasn’t warm by any means, either – even with Violet pressed against her, Clementine felt the chilly air on her skin. She didn’t mind it.

“Can you recognize any constellations?” Violet asked quietly. “I can’t, I’m shit at it.”

Clementine scanned the canvas of the sky, looking for familiar patterns here and there. “That’s the Big Dipper,” she said, pointing above them. “See, it’s those four stars that form the handle of a dipper, and then it connects to a box – can you see it?”

Violet squinted at the sky. “Which way?”

Clementine stole a glance at her, and felt breathless, seeing the way her face basked in the pale moonlight and how she could almost see the stars reflect in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, turning back towards the sky. “There,” she said, and pointed again. “Follow my finger.”

Violet leaned closer, resting her head on Clementine’s shoulder. “Oh. Yeah, I see. Like a huge spoon.”

Clementine laughed. “Yeah, kind of.”

Violet fell silent for a while. She began drawing absent-minded patterns on the back of Clementine’s hand. “I think those spell something out,” she said suddenly, pointing at a random point in the sky.

“Yeah?” Clementine asked, feeling herself smile. “What do they spell out, then?”

“It says, ‘Violet loves Clementine’,” Violet said. “Wow, that’s crazy. I guess we’re written in the stars.”

Clementine couldn’t help the laugh bubbling out of her. “Stop it,” she said. “Sap.”

“For you?” Violet asked. “I guess I must be.”

Clementine supposed that if something had to be written in stars, that wasn’t a bad thing to have. And as far as birthdays went – she was certainly having the best one of her life, so far.


End file.
